Everybody Breaks
by ThnksFrThMmrs87
Summary: Everyone breaks eventually; and when Emily does, Hotch is there


Note From the Author-- In the grand tradition of my stories I haven't the foggiest where the hell this came from. It's a little out there, but I hope you enjoy it either way :)

Disclaimer-- I don't own the characters

Nights out for the BAU team were few and far between. Usually their cases were so draining that they wanted nothing more than to go home, curl up with a book and a hot drink; either that or sleep until the phone rang again and they were called back to the carnage. That being said, it took something rather exceptional to get them all out in a restaurant or bar when it wasn't in some other state during a case.

One of those rare nights, after a particularly trying case, Hotch found himself surveying his team as they ranged themselves around the bar. Derek, as usual, was on the dance floor surrounded by a bevy of women, JJ was in a booth chatting with Reid and Rossi, and Garcia and Emily were at the bar; though it seemed that one of the last two was a lot farther gone than the other .From his position next to Reid, Hotch could tell that something was definitely wrong with Emily. It had been a hard case for all of them, but for Emily it had been harder.

They thought it had been relatively routine, that was until a man they hadn't even considered as a suspect had taken an interrogation room hostage with their actual suspect, Emily and Hotch inside. The fact that their unsub was a cop was bad enough, that he had managed to so easily get to the BAU team members was worse. They hadn't been in there long, but it had been long enough; long enough for him to see the panic rise in her eyes even as she had joined him trying to talk the guy down.

The dirty cop hadn't taken into account that though he may have had a gun and three hostages, two of the other people in the room were highly trained and excellent at their jobs. He had been subdued inside of half an hour, but it still left Emily shaken.

Hotch knew that it had taken her back to what happened with Cyrus, and when it was all over he watched her try to hide the shakes as an EMT had looked her over. When the plane landed it had been decided that they needed to get out a loosen up a bit, and though Aaron hadn't been too sure about the wisdom of that idea, the rest of the team seemed to need it. So he had gone along to make sure… well he honestly wasn't sure.

Now he watched as Garcia's attention flitted between Derek and the increasingly tipsy brunette at her side, and with a shake of his head he decided it was probably a good time to suggest that everyone head home. Unfortunately he didn't make it that far.

"Sir," Garcia called out. There was palpable urgency in her voice.

Hotch made it to the bar in five seconds flat, and Derek was right behind him. Emily was evidently a whole lot more than tipsy, considering that Garcia seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright. "What happened?"

Penelope shook her head. "She started drinking the second we got here,"

"How much baby girl?" Morgan questioned.

"I didn't exactly think to count, gorgeous. She's pretty far gone."

Aaron nodded and shifted Prentiss's weight from her to him. "Garcia, you and the others head home. We'll get Emily home."

She shot one last glance at Derek before she nodded and made her way back to the others. A couple of confused or concerned looks shot back at them, but nobody questioned. Emily was coherent, though, and more than willing to protest. "I'm sitting right here, and you two could just as easily pour me into a cab. I'm a big girl."

"Yeah," Derek granted. "A big drunk girl."

"Ha ha." She thought it admirable that she managed not to slur her words too horribly.

Hotch carefully swung her up into his arms, not surprised when she gave in and rested her head on his shoulder. "We could just dump you in a cab but that would be irresponsible and unsafe. Where are your keys?"

Her hand gestured vaguely in the general direction of the bar stool next to the one she had vacated and Derek grabbed her purse to rifle through it. "Hotch her keys aren't here. She must have left them on the plane."

"Damn," she swore softly against his neck. "I'm usually better than that."

And there, there was whatever had driven her to this place starting to shine through. "My apartment's only a couple of blocks; she can sleep it off there."

They both expected further argument, but as they headed for the door they realized that she had fallen asleep. That made it easier to get into the car, but still far from simple. Hotch kept her curled up against him as Derek drove, mostly because it was easier for him to be able to lift her as he moved than it would be to settle her in the backseat and drag her back out. It wasn't safe, but they made it the few blocks to his place with relative ease.

When they parked Derek was out of the car and over to the passenger side to open the door quickly. "She still out?"

"Seems like it. Keys are in the cup holder." The walk to his place wasn't long either, and though Emily was far from heavy, she was dead weight. He found himself thanking God for ground floor apartments.

They got inside easily, and as Derek shut and locked the door Hotch kept going until he could set her down on his bed and went to work pulling off her boots and divesting her of her jacket. Sleeping in jeans and a tank top in a strange bed wasn't ideal, but if he couldn't wake her up it would have to do.

"This case drove her way over the edge. I can't believe we didn't notice it."

Hotch shook his head. "We all noticed it; none of us thought it was this bad." He tucked the covers in around her as she cuddled into his pillows, trailing a hand over her hair as he turned.

The movement didn't escape Derek's notice, and as he walked with his boss and friend out of the room he decided to offer a little friendly counsel. "Take some advice Hotch?" he asked.

A raised eyebrow was his first answer, and Morgan thought he was going to get a no. "I suppose that entirely depends on what that advice is regarding," he said tiredly, dropping into a chair in his moderately sized living room.

"On Emily."

The eyebrow went up again, and he surveyed the man still standing in front of him. "I'm intrigued."

Derek smiled. "One of the hazards of our trade is paying attention to pretty much everything and everyone around us, sometimes to the point that we notice things we didn't even know we were looking for. I notice you and Emily, how you've gotten closer lately, and the way you seem to gravitate towards each other. That advice of mine? Be here for her tonight, talk to her, and maybe tell her some of what you've been feeling. Life moving forward, that doesn't happen if you keep standing still."

"Thanks for the analysis Dr. Morgan," Hotch said with an answering smile. "I'll take it under advisement."

"Good."

He was halfway to the door when the other man spoke again. "The rest of us are paying attention too, Morgan."

"And?" he asked, turning back just a bit.

"The other women you're with, the playboy attitude, we all know by now just how big an act that is. Maybe it's time that you quit pretending you don't know what you want and go for it. Just a suggestion, since you're so into advice today."

His look faded to serious, and with a nod of his head he started out. "You may be right. Night Hotch."

When Morgan was gone Aaron took a moment to pull off his own jacket and shoes before he headed into the kitchen. As much as he hated to wake Emily at all, he knew that it would be worse in the morning if she didn't get some water and aspirin in her system. Gathering the biggest bottle of water he had and a couple painkillers he headed back into the bedroom.

"Emily," he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. "Emily, wake up."

She did so, though it was with a great deal of effort and took a couple of minutes. When she did wake she was immediately disoriented. "Hotch?" she questioned, hating how pitiful her voice sounded.

"Yes, can you sit up?"

Emily nodded, wincing at the movement. "I'm drunk in your bed, I can't believe I'm drunk in your bed," she moaned. Moments like these were when she cursed the fact that she tended to remember everything when she was drunk.

He couldn't help the small smile. "I'm having a hard time believing it myself. Here." He handed over the water and aspirin, watching as she downed two pills and the entire bottle in record time. "Are you going to be comfortable sleeping in your jeans?"

"You don't have to do all this for me just because I've made an idiot of myself, Hotch." She was working on a real bad case of self-loathing, spurred partially by the fact that though she was coherent, she was still drunk off her ass.

"That's hardly the reasoning behind it; now you never answered my question."

She shook her head. "Jeans are it."

Now it was his turn to shake his head. "Hold on."

He came back a moment later with a pair of sweats and an FBI t-shirt which she took gratefully. When she climbed out of the bed she was just happy that she managed to stay on her feet, which was more than she could say at the bar. Still, the world was spinning a bit; and she was thrilled to be upright.

While Emily changed, Hotch took the opportunity to slip into some sweats of his own and dig up some blankets. Sleeping on the couch for the night wasn't what he had expected but he could certainly deal with it for a night. When Emily appeared in the doorway he tried to fight off the little pang of emotion when he saw her in his clothes.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded. "Much." Then she started forward and things seemed to catch up with her. Not for the first time, she praised Hotch's quick reflexes as they were the only thing that saved her from landing on her ass. "I… Oh God." It was all the warning he needed, and he had her back in the bathroom in a second.

Tears streamed down her face as she retched. She felt Hotch's hands on her hair and at her back, but they only made the tears come faster. This was a man whom she respected and cared for, and she had reduced him to holding her hair while she kneeled over the toilet like a wasted coed on Spring Break. When it finally passed she took the tissue he offered with a shaking hand.

Emily wanted to resist when he encouraged her to lean back against him, but the reality was that she was just too exhausted. "I'm so, so sorry about all of this."

Hotch shook his head. "Don't be. I understand Emily."

He was being so noble and understanding that she couldn't find anymore words. Rather than try, she just leaned back against him. When he lifted her in his arms again she didn't protest or complain, and when he settled her back in the bed all she could do was burrow under the covers.

She was still crying, and when he brushed at the tears on her cheek she couldn't hold back a sob. "Aaron."

He only shook his head. "Not tonight, Emily. Sleep for now; the rest will keep until morning."

Hotch left her there, pushed to the couch. When he was gone Emily felt the last vestiges of her control break, and she wept until it felt like her heart would shatter. Only then was she able to fall into a fitful sleep.

Of course he could hear her, and he wanted to go to her more than anything. But he knew that her pride was wounded as it was, and he was fully aware that if he walked back in that room he wouldn't be able to leave. He wasn't sure if either of them were ready for that. So he stayed on the couch, slept like shit, and prepared for the reality that he would probably wake up with the sun.

The next morning, while Hotch was beginning to stir and Emily was still out cold, Morgan was up and going hours before usual. He'd thought all night about what Hotch had told him, and he'd lost no small amount of sleep over it. It hadn't exactly taken a brain surgeon to know who they'd been speaking of, and Derek knew that Hotch was right. For a long time he had tried to pretend that what he felt for Garcia didn't exist. He couldn't say that anybody would have agreed with all of the reasons he had given himself, but in his mind they were completely justified. The last thing he wanted was to bring any more death and destruction into Garcia's life. She already saw more than she should, and who was he to destroy what little spark she had after doing the job they did every day?

With a sigh and the knowledge that he wasn't going to get anything else done, Derek figured he may as well just head into the office. There was a stack of paperwork on his desk that he could probably get through before the others made it in, and maybe it would give him some more time to think.

The office was pretty dead when he made it in, but at that hour it really wasn't surprising. Actually enjoying the quiet, he shrugged out of his coat and got to work. He had been there an hour and sailed through a great deal of FBI red tape when he heard the familiar click of heels. Half expecting it to be JJ who walked into the bullpen, he was surprised when he looked up and found none other than Penelope Garcia.

"What on earth are you doing here so early mama?" he asked with a smile.

She was surprised to see him there, and it showed momentarily on her face. "I could ask you the same question, handsome."

"Couldn't sleep, figured I may as well get some work done."

"Good plan." Her expression turned serious as she leaned against his desk. "How's Emily?"

Morgan sighed. "As of last night, completely wasted; but Hotch tucked her into bed and last I checked was getting ready to bunk down on the couch."

"I'm glad the two of you were there," she said with a sincere smile. "I just hope she'll be okay."

"I think she will be. I suggested to Hotch that he be there for her and just talk to her, and then consider discussing what's been going on between the two of them."

The smile turned into a grin. "Interesting opportunity, I just hope he took that advice. They'd both be so much happier if they just figured things out."

He would have had to be a complete dolt not to see the opening she had just unwittingly given him; but possibly for the first time in his life he was cripplingly hesitant. Still, what he told Hotch the night before was running through his head, and he knew that he didn't want to keep standing still. Not with Garcia.

"You're right. You know, Hotch actually gave me some pretty sound advice last night too."

"Really, and what was that?" she questioned.

Derek stood, bringing himself mere inches from Garcia, a distance she most definitely noticed. "He told me to quit pretending I don't know what I want." His hands slid up her neck to tangle in her hair. "I think he was right."

"What… what have you been pretending not to want?" she asked breathlessly, praying she already knew the answer.

"You, Baby Girl. It's always been you."

She couldn't say anything, mostly because the only part of her body that seemed to be working was the heart that was beating into overdrive. Instead she just looked up at him in wonder.

"Honey, are you planning on saying anything anytime soon?"

Garcia still couldn't seem to force anything resembling speech, so instead she decided to put her mouth to better use. Leaning up, she kissed him, really and truly for the first time. The world disappeared, and neither of them would remember where they were until the sound of JJ's squeal as she smacked into a stunned Reid's back echoed through the bullpen.

Back at Hotch's apartment, coffee was on and he was thinking of Emily when she finally ventured out of the bedroom. Her hair was tangled; she was pale as a ghost, and evidently still a little shaky. But what really struck him, and what made him truly sad was the look of self-hatred on her face. "Morning," she said sheepishly.

"Morning." He slid a cup of coffee in front of her without another word.

They were both quiet for a moment, mostly because Emily was trying to figure out what the hell she could say to make the situation better. She was a novice at apologizing to her boss for the fact that she'd gotten drunk and forced him to sleep on his couch.

"Hotch; I don't know what to say."

He shook his head. "You don't have to say anything, Emily. Sometimes we all break."

"I know, but we don't all break by getting hideously drunk in front of our colleagues and forcing our boss to hold our hair while we vomit," she told him, her face coloring with embarrassment. "Nobody breaks that way."

"You did, because everyone reacts differently to stressors. I just wish we had seen the way you were feeling soon enough to keep you from crashing this hard.

She sighed. "It's hardly your responsibility to keep me from drinking myself into oblivion." Emily picked up her coffee and practically slunk over to the couch. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy to get away from him.

Aaron was right behind her, and he found a seat on the couch next to her. "I was in that room too Emily, I know what happened and I could see what you were feeling. What I don't quite understand is…"

"What sent me crawling into a bottle of Vodka?" she injected, trying for humor.

"You don't have to try and laugh it off," he told her sincerely.

Emily nodded. "I know, but at the moment it's either that or cry so laughing seems the better option." She tucked her feet up underneath her and leaned into the arm of the couch, feeling rather small. "That cop, the one who ended up pointing a gun at our heads? I didn't see it, not even a hint."

He nodded. "I know, but Emily none of us did."

Tears welled in her eyes again, and though she was furious that they were there in the first place there evidently wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop them. "I flirted with the bastard. I flirted with him like I would any other cop, and even as much as I spoke to him I still didn't see it. He went as far as trying to talk me into going out with him, and I told him no of course, but God, what if I had?"

"You wouldn't have. You know better than to get involved with someone on a case, so it's a moot point." His eyes met hers, holding as he spoke again. "I think we both know there was more than that going on."

She sighed. "I should know better than to try to lie to you. Yes, it took me back to a place in my head I never wanted to go to again."

"You handled it beautifully."

"Well, obviously you couldn't see me shaking. "

Hotch shook his head. "I saw, but Emily you held on until after it was over. I could tell what you were feeling, but only because I know you. You were struggling the whole time, but you didn't let him see it, and you talked him down. Going through what you went through, dealing with that again, that took strength."

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his faith in her; she did, more than he knew. But it was hard for her to deal with her failings. "I thought I was over what happened in that compound, but obviously…"

Opening up seemed to be difficult to both of them, a fact that they seemed to be constantly proving. Hotch thought back to what Derek had said the night before and decided that maybe it was time to change all that. Turning, he made sure that their eyes locked again. "I don't think any of us will ever really get over that, Emily. When you were in there, telling us the whole time that you could take what he was doing; I can't even begin to tell you what went through my mind. It's not something that you can just forget about that easily."

"I know," Emily told him. "Trust me I do. It was just, being in a situation like that again, being forced into that… I didn't know how to deal with it."

"You dealt with it the best way you knew how." It was a leap, actually more like jumping off a cliff, but she was worth it. Reaching out, he took her hand in his. "You're allowed to feel, and you're allowed to feel vulnerable. It's only human."

Emily nodded. "I know, but sometimes it feels just a bit too close to losing control."

"Is that honestly so bad?"

There was something in his voice, something that momentarily gave her pause and where she had diverted her gaze, now she looked up. What she saw blew her away. "Aaron, last night…"

He smiled. "I did only say not tonight didn't I?"

She didn't know how to do this, to tell him what she had been feeling and wishing for. Everything rioting through her had been held back so long that she wasn't sure how to let it go. That was probably why she ended up blurting it out. "I wanted you to stay last night."

It was so simple, that single confession opening up a world of possibilities for both of them. When Hotch tugged on her hand and pulled her into her arms she didn't resist; it was what she wanted and had been wanting for so long. So there they were lying on his couch wrapped in each others' arms, and neither could quite figure out just how they had gotten there. It didn't matter.

"I wanted to stay," he said quietly. "I could hear you crying, and there wasn't anything I wanted more than to walk back into that room and find a way to ease that hurt you were feeling. I wasn't sure that you wanted me there, and your pride was already wounded."

"I should have said something to you, let you know."

Hotch shook his head. "Emily."

She looked up at him and it seemed so simple to lean up as he leaned down. First kisses had the potential to be awkward; this was anything but. It was heartbreakingly sweet, impossibly tender, and when they pulled gently apart Emily dropped her head to his chest with a content sigh.

"You were so hurt last night. I should have stayed."

Emily shook her head, leaning up to kiss him briefly before settling back in. "You're here now."


End file.
